Biological Warfare

by Beth - Scorpio



I have no skin
It decayed long ago
Leaving nothing but a stench behind
Then She came along
Promised me forever
Promised me metamorphous
Eternal evolution

I breathed her deeply
She was spore-like
Lodging herself dry and dusty in my lungs
I multiplied
I expanded
I was a simple mathematical equation
Where s=pd
Creating a perimeter I/she could not exist outside of

I grew
Engorged with her virulent disease
I postulated and drove men mad
Until I was nothing more than a spore myself
A contagion
A cadaver of pestilence
A virion containing around 187,000 letters
All that remained was
An unholy stench
And the four horse men of the apocalypse.

Birth sign: Scorpio
Date created: 2004-11-18 22:26:08
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:46:44
Poem ID: 70438

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